


Rosemary

by askboo



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Character Death (Past), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 12:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13636317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/askboo/pseuds/askboo
Summary: Because you see, Bitty was a psychic, and Jack the tall handsome lumberjack had a smoky aura that twisted and shifted unhappily around him. It was kind of hard to miss, no matter how distractingly beautiful his face was.





	Rosemary

Every person who worked in a cafe was guaranteed at least one regular customer crush.

Bitty’s was a man named Jack, a tall broad-shouldered blue eyed hunk with a charming trace of an accent who wore basically 5 of the same flannel shirt in different colours. A crush on a man like Jack was a no-brainer, but there was also the way he lit up a little whenever Bitty greeted him by name, flirted with him at the register, or had his usual coffee already prepared in his usual bright yellow mug. Like Bitty was one of the best parts of his day, or something, or made his life just a little bit better.

Acting on these crushes was never a good idea, though, if only because it was so much more fun to admire people from afar, to get that exciting rush whenever they walked into the shop, to imagine the perfect life together with the dog and the kids and the house, instead of facing reality, which was: the awkward need to avoid this person after a date gone wrong, when you actually got to know how boring or rude or weird they really were.

With Jack, Bitty wanted to cross that line for the first time ever. And it wasn’t because of his blue eyes or his great ass. Well. It wasn’t just those things. But it was more because Jack’s cute little smile was always sad, and Bitty...well, Bitty knew what the problem was. And how to fix it. Not getting closer to Jack and his blue eyes and his great ass was just letting him suffer, and that was being a bad person.

That was what Bitty told himself on the Monday afternoon when he made himself a mocha and put one of Jack’s favourite blueberry muffins on a plate, and then when to sit with him on his break. 

Jack looked up from his textbook and smiled. This was a knowing smile, but still a little sad. He shifted his stuff around so Bitty would have room for his mug and the muffin. His eyes were warm when they looked at Bitty across the table. 

“Jack, I wanted to ask--”

Jack reached across and put his warm hand on top of Bitty’s. “Bits, I…” he said softly, and then swallowed. “Believe me, I want to. But it’s...it’s not a good idea.”

Bitty flushed happily, even though Jack had effectively just turned him down. Because Jack had said he wanted to, even though Bitty hadn’t been about to ask him out, and wasn’t that sweet. He didn’t want to embarass Jack by correcting him, so he simply said: “Tell me about your ghost.”

Jack took his hand away like a snap, sitting back in his chair like Bitty had pushed him there. Colour slowly drained from his face. “What?”

“Your ghost,” Bitty repeated. 

Because you see, Bitty was a psychic, and Jack the tall handsome lumberjack had a smoky aura that twisted and shifted unhappily around him. It was kind of hard to miss, no matter how distractingly beautiful his face was. 

Jack was being haunted.

Bitty was ready for the denial, the ‘are you crazy’, for Jack to just get up and leave. Haunted people were so rarely prepared to admit that what they were experiencing was real, so it wasn’t a comfortable experience most times to have someone else confirm it.

But Jack was the most honest, straightforward guy that Bitty thought he had ever met, so even though he looked pale and whoozy, he swallowed and leaned across the table. “It’s my ex,” he whispered. 

Bitty pulled out his phone, unlocked it. “Gimme your number,” he said. “I’m coming over tonight.”

*

When the doorbell rang that evening, Jack paused to check his hair in the hallway mirror. Then he frowned, messing it up again, and went to answer the door. God, he was such an idiot. He didn’t need to look good for a...a seance, or whatever this was.

Bitty stood at the door adorable as ever, wrapped in a peacoat and a red knit hat and matching scarf. He had a big black duffle bag on his shoulder. He smiled warmly at Jack and stepped in. Jack watched his eyes go a liquid honey colour, as if he was looking straight through the room. “Oh,” Bitty said softly, and he sounded relieved. Jack hoped that was a good thing.

Bitty put the bag on the floor and toed off his shoes. He passed Jack down the hall and then bent to pick up a fallen picture frame. Jack had long since taken out the glass.

“Sorry,” Jack said quietly. “He likes to knock things down.”

Bitty kept the picture in his hands and then walked into the living room. Jack followed him, and he found Bitty sitting down on the couch, looking down at the picture in his lap. Jack leaned against the back of the couch and looked down at it over Jack’s shoulder. He and Kenny were probably 17 or 18 in the picture, sitting together on the back of Jack’s old corolla, arms wrapped around each other. Jack looked at Kenny’s hooded green eyes and felt his throat tighten. He’d looked at that picture a thousand times, but somehow having Bitty see it too made Jack feel like the past was somehow closer.

“There was an accident,” Bitty said softly, running his fingers gently over Kent’s face. 

“Yes,” Jack said hoarsely. He rounded the couch to sink down next to Bitty. He took the frame from him, then reached out to touch Kent’s face himself. “Freshman year. He was driving home from Christmas break.”

Bitty was looking around the room in that hazy way again. “You felt guilty,” he said.

Jack closed his eyes. This time, his throat tightened so much he couldn’t swallow. He hadn’t talked to anyone about this, even though it had been four years. Kenny was still with him, but he knocked things over or sent them flying, important things like Jack’s cell phone and keys went missing, and sometimes he made the whole house shake in the middle of the night. Kenny’s ghost, his spirit, whatever it was, was angry, and Jack knew why.

“I broke up with him,” Jack said finally, eyes still tightly closed. “Right before. We’d been together since tenth grade, but...everything at the time, school and the long distance, it was just...too much.” Jack opened his eyes to look at Bitty. “But I still loved him. You know? I didn’t want this to happen.”

Bitty blinked, and the focus came back into his eyes. He looked so sad, and he reached out a warm hand to touch Jack’s cheek. Jack couldn’t help but lean into it, even though comfort was the last thing he deserved. “Oh honey,” Bitty said. “Of course you didn’t. And that’s not why he’s here.”

Jack’s lips parted in surprise, but before he had the chance to ask, Bitty was up and moving back into the hall again. He came back with the bag, and sat back down. From one of the side pockets he lifted out a thick bunch of herbs, wrapped up like a cigarette, and his lighter. “We’re not smoking this,” he said with a wink. “So don’t get too excited.”

He lit the bundle with the lighter and then blew it out. Thick white smoke flowed from the tip, but it smelled good, earthy and floral. “What’ll that do to him?” Jack whispered anxiously.

“It’s not for him,” Bitty said softly. “It’s for you.”

Bitty waved the smoke around for a little while, and then let the bundle rest gently on one of Jack’s coasters on the coffee table. Then he reached up and brushed Jack’s hair away from his eyes. His warm hands came back to Jack’s, holding both of them tightly. “It’s Rosemary, and Mistletoe,” Bitty explained gently. He looked Jack in the eyes. “For letting go.”

Jack looked down at their joined hands, and Bitty’s sympathetic eyes, around the smoky room. His breathing shortened when he realized what was happening. “I can’t,” he breathed.

“You have to,” Bitty said, squeezing. “Honey, he’s not mad. He doesn’t blame you for the accident, or the break up. The knocking things over, the shaking, you’ve been holding on to him for too long. He’s only been trying to tell you that he’s ready to go.”  
Jack’s eyes filled with tears. He closed them, but the the tears dripped down his cheeks. “Go where?” he said.

“I dunno,” Bitty said softly. “But it’s gotta be good, because they all want to go so bad. We hold them back when we try to hold on. And I get it, honey, I do. It’s hard to let go but it’s the right thing to do. For him.”

Bitty reached up to Jack’s cheek again, wiping the tears, and then he took Jack by the neck and tugged him down. Jack sogged up Bitty’s t-shirt, and held on to him. When he pulled back, his face was red and his nose completely clogged. His heart ached as much as it had when he’d lost him the first time. Jack closed his eyes, breathed in the sweet smell of the smoke. He tried to imagine the beautiful, warm, safe, happy place that all the lost souls wanted to go.

“Okay, Kenny,” he whispered. “Get outta here.”

Jack felt something cool and soft brush his cheek, then boop the tip of his nose. Jack left wetly, and then smiled. It was a signature Kent move. When he opened his eyes, he almost expected to see Kent there, but there was nothing. The smoke had gone out. For the first time in four years, Jack could feel that he was really alone.

But of course, he wasn’t alone. Bitty leaned forward and gave him a real proper hug this time, both arms wrapped around him, squeezing tight. Jack took him by the waist and turned his face into Bitty’s neck, holding on. He’d thought this moment would bring unbearable pain but it had only brought….

Relief.

“Thank you,” Jack whispered.

“You got it, honey,” Bitty said, pulling back with a smile. 

“Do I…” Jack tugged at his collar awkwardly. “Owe you...I mean, what do you charge for this kinda--”

“Hah!” Bitty said, grinning. “You think I’d make a living off being psychic? I briefly considered it once, you know. Getting my own TV show. But it’s so not a good look. So no, sweetheart. There’s no charge. Except maybe cooking me dinner ‘cause talking to ghosts gets me starving.”

Jack laughed. He got to his feet, rubbing at his face. He felt exhausted. “What if I ordered you chinese food,” he said, from behind his hands.

“You can own me,” Bitty said with a smile, standing up too. He leaned up on his toes to kiss Jack on the cheek and then grabbed his bag. “Get some sleep.”  
Jack walked him to the door, and watched him tie his scarf around his neck. He reached out and put a palm against the front door, stopping Bitty from opening it. Bitty turned to look at him in surprise. “What I said before, about---it, not being a good idea?” he said awkwardly. “I think now, it might--”

“Might be an okay idea now that you’re not being haunted by your ex?” Bitty teased him.

“Yes,” Jack said seriously, which made Bitty laugh even more.

He put his hands on Jack’s shoulders and leaned up to peck him on the lips. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll let that dinner you owe me be the date kind of a dinner.”

Jack smiled and told Bitty he would text him, and closed the door behind him. Then he took the framed picture back over to it’s spot on the wall, hanging it back over the nail. He stood and looked at Kenny’s face in the picture for a long time. 

He was somewhere better now, and soon, Jack would be happier too.


End file.
